A Short History of Caithness

[georgel]

Has anyone got a copy of the poem 'A Short History of Caithness' I am loking for one.

Thanks

[Torvaig]

John Horne

Div ye mind yer Kaitness hoosie wi its wheezy but and ben,
A dowgie sleepin by e' fire, aside a clockin hen;
A dresser set wi bowlies, an a bandbox on a kist,
A cowgie fu o sooans, an' a stoolie wi' a list?
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind? Div' ye mind e' greasy grunter wi' his muckle flappan loogs,
An e' chuckens fechtin roond ye for e' sweelans o' e' moogs?
A slated blockie, on a bool, spread dryan in e sun,
While e duekies trail'd his heid-piece roond and roond e' byre for fun
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind? Div' ye mind e' Knotty Club wi its game and ragged band,
Fa's clubs wis bandaged kail-runs or anything at hand?
Noo and then a tae wis opened wi' a whistle fae e' ba',
An e' linin o' a pockad wis pit roond it wi' a straw.
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind? Div ye mind e' whitened lirkie wi' its mooldy, earthy scent,
An e' blinkin faces roond ye, tryan hard til look intent?
On e' blessed Bible pages, ye drew sheep and stirkies lean,
An ye cut initials in e' pew fan "Thirdly" shut his een.
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind? Div ye mind e' jolly schooldays fan ye trowed till play "Skyhigh"
And ye tumbled in a burnie, and skelpt aboot til dry?
Bit yir mithir spread ye on her lap an' exercised her han',
Then chicked ye in yur baba 'cause ye wisna fit till stan'
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind? Div ye mind e' day ye traivelled wi yur faither in a cairt,
Far fae hoosie, kirk and burnie, in e' world til act yir pairt?
Hoo ye turned an looked an looked again, wi a prayer in yeer face,
An vowed til play e' man and bring them no disgrace?
Div ye mind, boy Eh? Div ye mind?

Taken from a book called "Caithnessian Poems and Plays" by John Horne.

[Torvaig]

I don't think there was a poem called "A Short History of Caithness" but it may have been the name of a book in which the above poem was included. I hope someone more knowledgeable on such things will elucidate!

TRINKIE! - Help!

[trinkie]

I've looked through a pile of books without any luck.
Are you sure that is the correct title?
Any idea who wrote the poem? I'll have another look tomorrow.

Loved your contribution Torvaig !

Trinkie

[trinkie]

Silly me - it's sitting here in front on me !
It's too long for me to type out, but if you send me a private message with your address I'll email it to you.
Trinkie

[stumpy]

Is that the one that starts "Till make 'e world in six short days, 'e good Lord did contrive.He spent wan day on Caithness and he did 'e rest in five"? Might be one of Castlegreen's poems.I think I have a copy in the house,please let me know if you still need it and I'll pass it on.

[golach]

A short History of Caithness
Till mak’ ‘e world in six short days
‘E good Loard did contrive;
He spent wan day on Kaithness
An’ did ‘e rest in five.
An’ fan He’d feeneeshed id aal off
An’ blissed id we Hees bounty
He looked owld Kaitness ower an’ sayed
“At’s fit A’d call a county!”

He furnished id wi’ streams and lochs
Lek Watten. Forss and Calder:
He didnna gie id muckle trees –
He leked id better balder.
He shived a few bit pleices in
Lek Week an’ Bower an’ Skirza
‘En lek a chewel in a croon
Pit in the toon o’ Thirsa

Iv coorse He hed till people id
Wi’ cheils till do id chustice.
For ye ken ‘at man is made o’ dust
An’ ye fit lek e’ dust is!
He hed till mak’ a noble reice
O’ beeg strong, han’some he-men
An’ so we get ‘e Kaithness fowk,
Fine wice-lek men and weemen.

At’s how we hev ‘e Sitherlannds,
‘E Sinclairs an ‘e Swasnsans,
‘E Budges, Bains an’ Macaphees.
‘E Moads an ‘e Mansons,
‘E Cormags, Cowgills, Keiths an’ Gunns
An’ lots o’ sich-lek shither.
Ye’d think He’d picked them special-lek
Till fect wi’ wan anither!

‘E Sitherlands they focht ‘e Gunns,
‘E Gunns they focht ‘e Sinclairs,
‘E Sinclaire focht ‘e wild Mackays,
‘E poliss focht ‘e tinklers.
Now ‘at more settled times hev come
Till alter ‘e poseetion,
‘E cooncils fecht amowng themsels
Till keep ‘e owld tradeetion.

They burned each ithers hooses doon
Accordan’ till thur system
They burnt each ithers kirks as weel
An’ niver even missed them.
Wan day ‘e Hakreek fowk got mad
‘E bishup pit thur birss up;
They beelt an ailiss of ‘o a fire
An’ fairly warmed his wurshup.

Wan Earl o’ Kaithness hed a son
An’ grudged ‘e loon hees raation;
He keept ‘im in a dungeon deep
An’ killed ‘im o’ starvation.
Anither day, till pass ‘e time
For ‘e time was long o’ passan
Wan o’ ‘e Gunn cheils cheised a Keith
An’ shot ‘im through ‘e wazzan!

‘E Cammals o’ Clenorchy’s clan
Cam north on wan occasion
Till teach ‘e deugend Sinclair tribe
Till keep thur proper station
On Altimarlach’s banks they clashed;
‘E Sinclairs met disaster!
‘E Cammals fairly soarted them
Ablow the breys o’ Haster!

　
A Dutchman cam fae ower ‘e seas
An settled in ‘iss quent land;
He started up a ferry boat
Till run across ‘e Pentland.
They say he chairged a groat a heid
For cerryan’ them ower thence;
Ye widdna get a kind look now
In Chonny Grots for fowerpence!

‘E Reformation cam’ an’ went
Wi’ fechtan’ an’ wi’ storman’;
Id didna worry Kaithness much
For they were past reforman’.
Fan fechts at hom’ were gettan’ scairce
An’ quate times they were dreedan’,
Awey they went till look for wars
In Norway or in Swedan!

Bit fechts were no ‘e only thing
For which they were athirstan’,
An’ so they beelt distilleries
At Pultneytoon, an’ Gerston
An’ wi’ ‘e product o’ them both
Be sure they werna sparan’!
Bit chist in ceise ‘e drooth micht fall
They introduced salt herreen’.

They got three cheils fae doon ‘e coast
Till set ‘e fisheen bizzan’,
An soon fae oot ‘e toon o’ Week
‘E boats sailed by ‘e dizzan.
An’ fan ‘e thing wis at ids heicht
They coonted ower a Thoosan’,
Till Week wis near as famous for
Ids fisheen as ids boozan’.

Bit there wisna fisheen aal year roon’
Or certain wi’ thur larries,
An’ so a cheil at Cassehill
Opened ‘e flagston’ quarries
They found some fossils on ‘e chob
O’ fish an’ bonnie broon shells:
They pit the flagston’s on ‘e streets,
The fossils on ‘e cooncils!

Av’e gien ye bits o’ history
Ye’re non’ ‘e worse o’ knowan:
A could hev gien ye better bits
But ‘iss ‘ll keep ye goan.
Kaithness hes hed a wild career
O’ bloodshed an’commotion:
She’ll mebbe no hev muckle more
If Dounreay tak’s ‘e notion!

by Castlegreen
　
　
　
　
　
　
　

[Torvaig]

Well done Golach; good to read that poem again! I used to love hearing Nannie Bremner from Lynegar reciting that poem; she was an expert on the Caithness dialect. She could recite the longest of poems without looking at a piece of paper; an amazing lady.

The last time I heard her recite in the Caithness dialect was at the one and only school reunion of Lyth School or to give it it's Sunday name, Barrock Public School. We noticed she had a piece of paper in her hand but she never once looked at it.

John Coghill from Stemster is another master of our dialect. He wrote a piece of poetry all about the Lyth School and the kids who attended at the same time as he did. I was highly honoured to be mentioned in it as were many of us who attended that special reunion in the Lyth Hall.

Barrock Public School is of course the Lyth Arts Centre now and has been for many years and those of us who attended the school appreciate what William Wilson has made of it.

[stumpy]

Cheers,Golach,that's still the best summing-up of Calder's History of Caithness I've heard!